


rubber bands

by illrunwithyou



Series: angsty one shots [5]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Gen, He is trying his best, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad, Self Harm, changmin is a sad boy, changmin is trying to cope, everyone is comforting him, self hatred, too many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illrunwithyou/pseuds/illrunwithyou
Summary: At first, it hurt, but overtime, the rubber bands became a part of him.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q, Ji Changmin | Q & Everyone, Ji Changmin | Q & Moon Hyungseo | Kevin, Ji Changmin | Q/Kim Younghoon
Series: angsty one shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698694
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	rubber bands

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags first before reading this! This might be triggering for some people!
> 
> This was written over literally like 7 months and it just came in bouts so I'm not sure if this all makes sense and I apologize in advance. Also, Hwall isn't in this story, im sorry :((
> 
> Changmin talked about how sometimes he gets sad too and he isnt very popular (at least imo) so I wanted to write about him being loved. 
> 
> Also, I have no idea about the predebut stuff so i just made it up as i went, so my timeline is most definitely off. 
> 
> Please do not attempt what he's doing in this fanfic! 
> 
> With that being said, enjoy!

_Untouched_

He watched himself in the mirror, the rise and fall of his chest, the sweat dripping off his hair and onto the wooden dance practice floor. The company had just announced that they were going to debut with Boy, an extremely catchy and upbeat song that all the members were excited about. All the members loved it, singing it in the shower, singing it to wake up the other members in the morning, singing it even when they were merely in the car going to practice. The choreography, however, was a different story. Changmin was the first one to learn it as the entertainment had taken him in with the knowledge of his dance academy training and the members as well as the higher-ups all agreed that Changmin should be the dance leader and when he was absent, Juyeon would take over dance practices. He had nothing against his same age friend but he secretly promised himself that the day Juyeon permanently took over dance practices, he would’ve lost his charm and stopped dancing forever. 

He knew dancing was that serious but dancing has been his entire life. Growing up at a competitive dance academy, it was never about the group, it was always about him, him, him. Dance performances could only be improved if he himself improved. If the dance team failed, it was on him, if the performance was not perfect, it was on him, if one of his members got hurt, it was his fault. There was never a we in team, and there will never be. (There wasn’t an i in team but there was an i in win). As a performance leader, everything depended on him, so _why couldn’t he get this dance down correctly?_

He could learn a complicated dance in one or two days tops at the academy, when he believed that learning was for losers and he only had a limited time on Earth so why would he spend it doing something he hated? Studying, memorizing information that he had no interest in, was inferior to dancing in his mind. Filling his mind with beats, rhythms, and translating those thoughts into movements; that’s what he wanted to do with his life. Of course he went to school, took the tests, laughed with friends, got decent grades, graduated with his diploma, but he knew that he had no future trapped inside classroom walls. When his dance instructor asked him to start auditioning for entertainment companies, telling him that he had it in him to become an idol, or at the very least a backup dancer, Changmin took that chance. He went to auditions when he was free and a few months before his high school graduation, he was accepted into a small company called Creative Korea, Cre.Ker for short. One of his seniors who knew English joked that it sounded like he was going to Cracker Entertainment and he had laughed at that, not completely sure what she was implying. 

He had spent his months at the entertainment alone in a dance practice room that was meant for all the trainees. The trainees would usually practice there in the mornings and spend the afternoons with vocal lessons and outings to restaurants where they complained about being a trainee and its hardships. Changmin always either hid away or take the bus to his old dance academy not far away in order to continue his dance training. Since he had been taken in as a back up dancer, he was instructed to have a formal relationship with other trainees, making sure to keep his distance. It wasn’t until one day his status in the company changed. 

“Hey you, you, dancer guy over there,” a pink haired boy called. 

Changmin ignored him as he continued his stretches because he knew the other trainee was most likely calling to a friend. A hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up, confused. The pink haired boy was standing there, with a huge smile on his face, “we are missing a person to practice with, you should join us,”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, dance and vocal. The dance instructor said that you are one of his best students, diligent, hard-working, and around our age.”

“But… I don’t know how to sing,”

“No problem, we can teach you. Or, you can just sit there and tell us if we sound good,”

He had agreed. To this day, he still had no idea why he agreed. Maybe it was because he was bored of his daily life spent on the same dance. Maybe because he wanted to try singing. Maybe he wanted friends. Maybe he was just over his head from the dancing instructor calling him one of his best students. Either way, he found himself in the recording studio, a room that was split in half, one half with a comfortable looking couch and a desk with a ton of fancy-looking buttons, a glass wall dividing it from the other half where there was a single microphone and music stand set up. He assumed that was the recording studio. 

“Here, here, listen to our song. It took us _so long_ to write and make the melody,”  
The song started off soft, boring Changmin, before the beat dropped and he could feel his body automatically moving, shoulders unconsciously dancing to the beat. The guys laughed, amused. 

“It occurs to me that we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. This here is Juyeon, 98-line, he loves to dance, like you” a tall boy with brown hair and a sharp nose looked up at him, eyes curling into crescents, “this is Sangyeon, a grandpa 96-liner,” an insanely handsome boy with the cutest eye smile shook his hand, “this is Sunwoo, our baby rapper, 00-line” a boy with a small and innocent face waved enthusiastically at him, completely contrasting his image as a rapper, “and I am Chanhee, 98-liner” the pink haired boy flashed him the biggest smile and patted him on the shoulder. 

“M-my name is Changmin…...born in 1998,” 

“Ah, that makes you the same age as Juyeon and Chanhee then!” Changmin nodded. “We are missing another vocalist to try and record this song, would you like to try?” Changmin didn’t understand why they needed four vocalists but he nodded, excited to finally make some friends. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

“That was great!” Chanhee exclaimed, “you can totally carry a tune! Just some work with the vocal trainer and you could debut!”

“I’m, I’m only a backup dancer, I don’t have any plans on debuting...sorry,” 

“No, Chanhee’s right, maybe if we let the CEO listen to this sample, he can reconsider you being only a backup dancer. They want to debut a big boy group and we don’t seem to have enough trainees,” Sangyeon stood up, hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah hyung, you should stay with us. You won’t shine as much if you are our back up dancer, this is your chance to make it big,” Sunwoo held his hand and swung it back and forth, begging him with his puppy eyes. 

“A-alright, you can show the CEOs the song but I can’t guarantee that they will like it, I’m not a really good singer,” 

The other members smiled, pulling him into a hug. He didn’t know how long it had been since he was hugged. Sure, he was hugged by the dance academy director and several of his closest friends when he was leaving, but he knew they didn’t mean it. He was merely another student, he was nothing special, and he even went back on late nights so it wasn’t like he was leaving forever. For some reason, he could feel the difference in their hug, it was tight, like they needed him, and for some reason, his entire body felt warm. Later that day, they invited him out to eat with them, and later to their shared dorm. The dorm was small and messy, but with a homely feel, like it was worn from witnessing and containing their lives, every early morning cry, every late night practice. It felt like what a trainee’s dorm should feel like, not like the backup dancers’ dorm, where he supposedly lived. Cre.Ker didn’t even have their own backup dancer dorm as they did not have enough backup dancers housed. Instead, they paid for him to live in a dorm housing backup dancers from nearby entertainment companies. It was cramped but none of them were usually home as they were required to learn one dance after the next so most of his roommates are never at the dorm. All of them only have a few personal items and a several sets of dance clothes that they could pack up and leave any time, as they were sometimes shipped to different companies to fulfill requests for backup dancers. It got to the point where he didn’t even know who his roommates were; he hadn’t lived in his dorm for weeks. 

“Awww, you can live here!” 

“Yeah! With us!”

“Where? You don’t have space anywhere” Changmin chuckled, falling on the couch as Juyeon hit him with a pillow. 

“What do you mean!? There’s space on the couch, stay here please,” 

“Sure, if I become a trainee,” Changmin laughed as they tackled him onto the couch.

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

The higher ups actually liked his voice, asking him why he kept it hidden for so long and demanding him to move into the trainee dorms. There wasn’t any room in Chanhee, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and Sunwoo’s dorm so they moved him to a dorm with Kevin, a same aged trainee who speaks fluent English, and Younghoon, a 97-liner with an angelic face. The CEOs decided to put them all in the same group, along with Eric, the youngest from America who never forgets to pull pranks and tease his hyungs, Jacob, a 96-liner from Canada who could only be described as an angel with his sweet voice and even sweeter personality, Haknyeon, a bright-faced boy who he had heard the higher ups had decided to submit into the Produce 101 Season 2 competition, and Hyunjae, a 97-liner with god-like visuals and whose smile made the whole room brighten. 

So he moved in, with the screaming boys. It was crazy at first, living with these crazy men; it was such a contrast to the silent dorm he was accustomed to. 

“Changmin hyung! Play dominoes with me!” 

“Move, Changmin! You’re hogging the best spot for TV!” 

“Changminn, what’s up?” Did he mention that all the members would come to their dorm since it was the most spacious dorm as the other dorms all contained 4-5 members while theirs only had 3. They came in like a snake, filing in one after another. It made Changmin’s eyes hurt to no extent. 

“Changmin! Our final member! Scootch over.”

“Hey stop poking! Sangyeon hyung, Eric is poking me again!” 

“You started it first! Give me the remote!”

“Never in a million years!”

“Catch him! That stealing hyung!” 

“Noisy, right? Don’t know how I survived this for several months.” Sangyeon whispered to him softly because somehow, he had gotten the seat next to Changmin. Smiling shyly, Changmin nodded because he didn’t know what to say. 

“You’ll love it, don’t worry.” Younghoon slung an arm around Changmin, sitting on his other side and complaining when Sunwoo switched the channel. 

“It’s time for a fashion lesson, my idiots.”

Maybe he could get used to this. Changmin relaxed in his seat. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

_Taut_

“Why are you practicing so hard?” Juyeon asked. Why was he practicing so hard? Even the main dancer of the group wasn’t practicing that hard. He was only the other main dancer, the one who was lacking in vocals, in rap, in facial expressions, in visuals, in personality; if there was a category for enthusiasm, he lacked in that too. The only thing he had was his dance. His sisters and his mom had just pooled together all the money from their multiple jobs in order to pay for trainee training. They were thrilled to learn that he had been chosen as a trainee, although they were a lot less thrilled after hearing the price but they assured him that they would make it work. 

Changmin just smiled, ashamed that he was hogging the practice room. _You should be letting the older, better trainees practice instead._ The voice inside told him. He marched over to his bag, ready to pack it in order to make room for Juyeon. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. You are welcome to stay...I mean, if you want. I mean, you don’t have to go, there’s enough room for the both of us….” Juyeon took a deep breath, “No, what I really mean is that we haven’t seen you in the dorms for a couple of days now….are you sleeping here?” 

Changmin nodded again. At the sad look that glazed over Juyeon’s eyes, Changmin took it upon himself to quickly patch up his mistake, “No, I just meant that...that’s what all backup dancers used to do...sleep in vacant training rooms to make pulling all-nighters easier. I just got used to it.” 

Juyeon looked like he wanted to say something but he shut his mouth, nodded, and left Changmin in peace. 

Changmin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and continued, glaring at his own form in the dance practice room mirror. He needed to make this night count, enough time had passed since he started talking to Juyeon. And he, of all people, knew that time was money and he did not have the money to spend lying around. He locked the door of the practice room and took a deep breath.

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

He collapsed against the mirror, exhausted. A buzz from his phone brought him back to reality. Missed messages, he’d never seen so many messages on his screen and he did a double take. He had never seen this many messages before, this many all worried about his well being. Even when he had first left his house when he was 17, his family wasn’t this worried about him. It was just the occasional, “have you eaten” text that he always answered with a “yes” even if his feet hurt and his skin started getting sticky from sweat and his stomach was aching for his missed meals. 

As soon as he opened the door, the Haknyeon came up and hugged him, dragging him to the couch with him wordlessly. 

“Did you eat yet?” Younghoon stepped out of his room, rubbing his eyes sleepily, making it obvious that he had just gotten out of bed. Changmin stood up hurriedly, bowing frantically to his elder. 

“Hyung, we don’t do that around here. We’re a family.” Haknyeon pouted as Younghoon muttered under his breath, “Still, it would be nice to have some respect around here.”

“Anyways, want to get something to eat?” 

“Anything good still open?” 

“Nah, there’s only this convenience store around the corner that sells pretty good ramen.” 

“I’m down.” 

They threw on jackets and stalked downstairs, complaining about the cold, the tiredness, the pain, the mean teachers each step of the way and boy, were there a lot of steps. Changmin had half a mind to not slap his hands over his ears just to block out the sounds of their voices. 

“That’s 1,000 won.”

“Ah, please, we come here every week, we’re like half your sales! Give us a discount please!” 

The old lady behind the counter chuckled and shook her head, “900 won, that’s it.” Grunting, they paid and thanked her, walking back to their own dorm. 

“Hyung, why do you always stay so late?” 

“In the practice room?” 

“Yeah.”

“I need to get better.” 

“Better?” Younghoon slumped on the couch, wrapping his arms around Changmin. He couldn’t help but to flinch away. Somehow, it always felt weird having his members cling and clutch to him. All the backup dancers despised touching each other since each project only lasted a couple of weeks and it wasn’t enough time to get acquainted despite how much they tried. 

“You are the best on the team, hyung. You and Juyeon hyung.” Sunwoo held onto his arm. Changmin smiled but he didn’t let that comment get to his head because no one is the best. There is only better. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

He carried that thought with him to the photoshoot the next day. He had spent the whole night waking up and practicing facial expressions in the mirror. This is his first official photoshoot, with actual lights, and cameras and photos that will be edited and put online as their online profiles as they are preparing for their debut. He couldn’t be worse than them; he couldn’t make the higher ups think they made a mistake of putting him in the same group as the rest of the members. Their family couldn’t afford another loss of money. 

Changmin peered down at his outfit. He couldn’t believe his eyes but he kept his mouth shut. It was a dull brown long sleeved shirt with bell sleeves. Hyunjae had laughed at it, asking if they went back to the 80s. It didn’t end there though. The shirt was covered in pale brown fabric loops and had frilly trim around the edges. His pants were even more outrageous, black with a myriad of black fabric loops and zippers that happened to be placed at the most inconvenient locations. 

“Hey,” Kevin laughed as soon as Changmin walked over, doubling over himself, holding onto his shoulder for support. 

Changmin just smiled, attempting to shrink into himself in order to get away from the judging stares of his members despite knowing that they weren’t directed towards him and all with good intentions. 

A burly man walked out of the room that held all the camera equipment. He tapped his clipboard, bored of this job already, “Kevin! Come in please!” 

“My turn~” he bragged, getting up from his seat and stretching. He was wearing his own semi-outrageous outfit with a long-sleeved satin top with diamonds embroidered on it and the back open, much like you would see in figure skating competitions. Changmin watched with envy. Kevin even looked like a figure skater. He tossed a rubber band towards him, laughing still at the similarities between Changmin and the band. Changmin absentmindedly slipped it on his wrist. 

He must have been staring at that door, that opening, that opening with the black fabric for too long because it moved. It moved to the side and Kevin came out, all smiley with his hands on his hips. They knew he had done well and Changmin smiled, he wanted to smile like that when he came out too. 

“Changmin! Come in!” the burly man mildly scared him, but he pulled himself off the bench and towards the door. His arm, which was resting on the side of the bench, pulled at the rubber band, which snapped on his skin, turning it slightly red under. He rubbed it; it hurt but for some reason...it pulled him out of his daze, like everything was right with the world again. He shook his head, and headed to the door. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

_Stretch_

He was practicing his dancing, again, day after day. Even the members seemed tired of him, leaving him sometimes to get out to eat, letting him obsess over every arm, every movement, sometimes even every hair out of place. It hurt, it hurt inside to keep being inferior, to always being subpar to his members who have far more experience, members who can just go out and have lunch without worrying about wasting time to practice. It hurt. What was wrong with him that the only thing that he thinks about is practice, practice, practice? If he messes up at vocal practice he just wants to dance until his limbs go limp. If he messes up during dance practice he just wants to curl up in the corner of the recording studio and spend hours recording and listening and recording each song. 

The members were worried, of course, as any good friends were. They asked why he never joined them during meals, why he was somehow always in the practice room, if he had slept, eaten, rested. They pulled him along to movie nights, to cuddle piles, to bed, but none of it got rid of it. 

None of that got rid of the nagging voice in his head. The voice that, in all honesty, said nothing. It didn’t spit curses at him, ridicule him, none of that. It just stayed there, as a presence, a forever presence, judging; and it hurt. 

“What do you want your stage name to be, hyung?” Sunwoo bounded into the dance practice room, excited. Eric followed, ice creams in hand. 

“Are you allowed to eat ice cream right now?” 

Eric pouted, and he felt his heart melt, “We’ll share if you promise not to tell the managers or the other hyungs.” Changmin laughed. They were so cute. He shook his head, declining the arm outstretched with ice cream. 

“Did the company tell you that we could make stage names?” 

“Yeah, they told the rest of us like a few hours ago, when you weren’t there.” Eric nodded in confirmation, nodding eagerly next to Sunwoo. 

“......Q. I want to be called Q.”

“Q?” The english speaker was confused. Changmin didn’t understand, it was just a simple english letter. It was common in Kpop to have letter names. There’s V, N, L. Q would just have to be added to the list. 

“Why Q?” 

Because I want a new identity. Because I want to be ambiguous, non commonly used, but have my own moments to shine, like the letter Q. It’s unique, easily recognizable, distinguished by that inconspicuous line. He didn’t say any of that, “....because I’m cute.” 

Eric laughed, setting his ice cream on the ground. Changmin laughed as well, turning his back. A weight crashed into his back and arms encircled him. Eric was now laying on top of him, giggling, pinching his cheeks. They fell down in a cuddle pile, one that Sunwoo flopped onto. They both grunted, complaining about the weight of Sunwoo which just made him get up and jump again onto the pile. An unassuming finger pulled at the rubber band he still hadn’t removed from his wrist and it snapped onto his skin. 

The two maknaes immediately sat up, worried at the loud sound. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Did it hurt?” 

Changmin just shook his head, amused. It was funny, watching the people who were usually doted over doting over him, trying to see if he was hurt just from a random snap of the rubber band. 

Oddly, not only did it not hurt, but it felt good, like that was what was meant to happen. 

He entertained that thought for the rest of the day. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

It was when he was practicing alone when it happened. It was when he was watching himself in the mirror, scrutinizing every tiny detail, even where a stray hair fell or where a stray piece of his shirt was. In his obsession, he even tried to wear the same clothes as the dance instructor, in order to watch everything fall into place. Even a single detail should be out of place. 

He panted towards his knees, bending over in the empty practice room. He kept a count in his head of every time something was off. That was the number he used. That was the number he used every night in the practice room, the number he used to punish himself. 

It was 14 this time. 

Suddenly. He turned his head. He had an idea. Those two rubber band snaps had hurt but they felt better than ever, like it was a reminder. It was a reminder to him of everything that he lacked, that he deserved to hurt this way. He liked it.

That night when he went home, his sleeve fell over his left arm which was covered in red welts. 

An absent finger reached to the band on his wrist and he pulled it back. It snapped loudly against his skin, echoing through the silent practice room. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

It happened again. He was counting. The numbers showing up like giant LED lights in his brain, burnt into the insides of his eyes. It hurt so much. His hand went up to his chest, clutching it. Desperate, his fingers went to the rubber band, the only thing that seemed to bring him peace. 

He wound the cold beige rubber around his fingers, again, again, and again. Finally, he snapped it. The coolness of the snap echoing through his skin and deep into his bones, vibrating there. Then he did it again. And again. And again. His vision smeared, dots dancing in front of his eyes, beige mixing with red, a ringing in his ears. 

A hand fell against the mirror, holding the rest of him up as he sobbed, fat tears falling onto the reflective surface. Slowly, he brought his stinging wrist up to his face, inspecting it. It was red, raw with unshed blood, skin that had been viciously stripped away. It hurt. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

He didn’t know what happened. It was as if someone flipped a switch. Everything annoyed him to no avail, everything that came out of any member’s mouth was like an ember that jumped onto his skin: too bright and too painful. So he did what any logical person would do: he started avoiding them. He started avoiding his members, the only ones who were there for him in his darkest nights, the only ones who understood his struggles. Nights were filled with himself, dirty, sweating, red, staring back at him in the cracked mirror, cracked from him hitting it too many times. 

And that rubber band, that rubber band had multiplied, into two, into four, into eight. He shuddered everytime he thought back to the collection of rubber bands that he stowed under his bed. 

Some of them were small, only able to fit around his wrist, but only after stretching it to his limits. He liked those, the one that left red imprints on his wrists that the members would question. They would take his wrist and run their thumbs along the mark and remind him to be more careful next time. 

Some of them, he could slide up his arms, to his biceps, beautiful multicolored rubber bands that adorned his upper biceps. Beautiful yet painfully red marks that the rubber bands would leave on his skin. These were always hidden from the members, covered up by sleeves, by sweaters, jackets, or simply, his hands. When he had made the request to the styling team to add sleeves to all his stage outfits (after sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and laughing about how he had no arm muscle like the other members), the stylists shot him annoyed glances and Changmin sighed. This is what he deserved. None of that happiness that absolutely radiates off of the other members, none of their reassurances, nothing. Just judgemental glares and sneers. Changmin smiled. 

More of the rubber bands, even, were thick enough to put around his thighs. These had left red welts so painful that his vision was crowded with spots every time he used them. These were the ones that left tears in his eyes, these were the ones that left his mind clearer than ever. These were the ones that only he had seen, that he only used when he was alone in the dance room. 

It was hard, having to hide this from the members he would literally give his life for, but it was for their own good, he tried to convince himself. 

✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

_Snap_

“Hey Changmin, what’s this?” 

_Oh no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. No, the members will find out, and they’ll leave me. This can’t be happening. No, not this soon._

Changmin looked up and freaked, rushing over to yank the box of rubber bands out of Kevin’s hand. He stared at the clear plastic box in his hands, cursing himself and his clumsiness. 

“Yeah, I’ve also noticed that you seem to really like rubber bands?” Sunwoo shifted his spot on the couch to face him. 

“Y-Yeah, I really like rubber bands. They’re….colorful...and they feel nice.” Seeing as the rest of the members had nothing to say upon finding out about their friend’s weird habit, Changmin took that as his sign to leave. 

“Wait,” Juyeon grabbed Changmin’s upper forearm and he gasped under his breath from the pain. Halting in his steps and turning around to face him, Changmin forced a smile onto his face, praying that no one heard his gasp. 

“Woah, are you okay?” Juyeon let go of his arm and Changmin gingerly brought his other hand up to rub at the red welts littering his upper arm. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Changmin, you aren’t fine. What’s up with you?” Sangyeon’s face appeared in front of his face and Changmin’s heart constricted. No, no, no, no, no, no, he wasn’t ready to go back to being a backup dancer. He wasn’t ready to return to that tiny, dark dorm where everything felt dead. He wasn’t ready to go back to being treated like crap by everyone: the idols, the managers, the other backup dancers. 

Gripping onto Sangyeon’s arm, Changmin did the unthinkable. He dropped to his knees and begged, “please, I’ll be better. I’ll be better from now on. I swear. I swear that I’ll change, just please don’t leave me. Please, please, please, please, I can’t go back there.” 

Sangyeon’s worried eyes flooded his vision and his eyes blurred. His vice grip on Sangyeon’s arm loosened and he pressed his hands against both sides of his head. He wished his head was a grape, a ripe green grape, a grape that you would plop into your mouth on the hottest summer days, a grape that would explode with juice inside your mouth. He squeezed his head, willing his head to become a grape, willing for the grape to pop. He pressed harder against his ears, imagining the steel armor the grape was wearing, the one that didn’t let him pop it. He gritted his teeth, prepared to press even harder, and-

“Changmin!” A shout brought him back. The sensation of hands all over him came into his senses and he swatted at them, determined to pry the disgusting hands off of himself. 

Something wet fell on his lap. Oh, it was his own tears. Younghoon’s face came into view. He looked worried. What was wrong? Did he hurt someone? Is that why he looked so worried? Is he hurt? 

Changmin wanted to ask, the questions were bursting out of his mouth but he just couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and ask. He tried though, still. 

“Wha-” It hurt, talking. His voice felt like it was raw but he pushed through it. 

“What happened?” 

“Changmin, are you okay?” an unknown voice asked. He nodded. He was okay now. 

“Changmin, do you trust us?” It was Younghoon this time, soft and gentle were his hands. Changmin leaned towards their warmth. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to confide in them, but it wasn’t their problem. The real person he wanted to punish was himself, for not being good enough, flexible enough, smart enough, handsome enough. Sometimes, he would look at himself in the mirror and want to tear his skin apart, ripping his skin off peace by peace to wash it, thoroughly. He felt disgusting, weighing the entire group down like that. 

“It’s not you guys.” he said, barely a whisper. 

“What is it then?” 

“It’s me. It’s always been me. I’m worthless, disgusting, terrible-” 

Someone put a hand on his arm, soothingly. And honestly? And if Changmin was being completely honest, that burned. It felt like the clashing of two worlds. It felt like a spot of white smoking in the darkness that was him, and he hated it. He hated feeling like this, like the only way to become clean, become handsome was to wear away the layers of skin, with rubber bands. 

“You aren’t. I don’t know how to say this but you are the best thing to ever happen to us…” Hyunjae trailed off, noticing that Changmin had burst into tears again. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Fingers came up to try and wipe the tears off but they just kept coming, in rivers. 

Arms embraced him, hands rubbed his back and they all became a mass of body that it was hard to tell who was who. Changmin wanted to break free, to push everyone off, to yell at them for wasting their time on him, but he felt like he couldn’t. For the first time in several weeks, it felt like his heart wasn’t as heavy anymore. The weight wasn’t there, a small dot of warmth taking its place. It spread, yellow and bright, through his heart, his veins, and made his arms glow. 

That’s when he finally relaxed, in the arms of his group mates.  
✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥

_Knot_

If Changmin thought that his recovery was going to be easy, he was in for a shock. As freeing as that day felt, everything came crashing down on him the next day. It felt like his world has crashed apart and landed him at rock bottom. Fearful of all the truths he spilt the day before, he curled in on himself, trying to protect his limbs before the imaginary monsters of his mind ate them up. 

“Hey Changmin, are you okay” 

“Where are my rubber bands?” his voice was so tiny he barely even recognized himself. 

Lookin at him sadly, Kevin made to sit on Kevin’s bed, “Sangyeon made us throw them all away.” 

“All of them?” His heart sank to his stomach. What now? 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get through this together. It’ll be fine.” 

And some days, it was. Some days, it felt easy, easy to watch himself in the mirror without critiquing everything he saw, easy to stare at his arms and not want to add more scars to them, easy to laugh with his group mates when they went out for treats and not feel like a burden, easy to ask for hugs when life felt too hard to handle. 

“You know that I’m so proud of you, don’t you?” Haknyeon said one night as he held him close. Changmin just snuggled closer, appreciating the warmth of the younger. 

“It honestly doesn’t matter if you are good at dancing, or if you are good at dancing. Honestly, the only thing that matters is that you are here and that you will be okay. We will help make it okay and come out stronger.” 

Changmin laughed, he had never heard him say something so cheesy, but Haknyeon just wrapped his arm tighter around his hyung, “I’m serious, with The Boyz, with Deobis, the next step of our career is conquering the world.”

“And hyung, you need to be there.” Changmin fell asleep with a smile on his face, content in Haknyeon’s arms. 

However, some days weren’t the rainbows and roses he had hoped was the road to recovery. Some days, even getting out of bed felt like too high of a mountain to climb, just getting to the practice room and putting on some music felt like a Herculean effort. Sometimes he prayed to just have another rubber band in his hand, so much that once, when he found a stray hair tie outside a girl group’s makeup room, his heart soard. He spiraled then, truly, and when he did, he fell hard. 

“Give it to me!” The normally soft, quiet angel hyung pinned Changmin between his legs, reaching for the hair tie that was out of reach.

“No! Please, please, just once. Just once, it will make me feel better. Please!” Changmin begged and begged, clenching the hair tie so tight that his knuckles turned white. 

“No, you know what Sangyeon said. Just one snap can cause you to go into relapse. You need to give it to me.” 

They were locked in a battle, each pulling on the hair tie until a loud snap sounded and the hair tie flew across the room, broken.

Changmin’s head spun, hurting. “No, no, no, please, no. Please don’t take this away from me, please!” He was worthless, unworthy of their love, unworthy of even debuting. He should’ve never tried this dream in the first place. Now, he has to go home to his sisters and explain why he even failed at doing something he loved. Black spots danced in his vision and when did he start crying?

It broke Jacob’s heart, hearing the normally strong willed dancer’s pleas but some words have to be taken seriously. He made his way across the room and quickly slipped the hair tie into his pocket. 

“Breath, breath, breath. Deep breaths, follow me.” Jacob took Changmin’s hand and placed it on his own chest, placing the strong heartbeat under the dancer’s fingers. 

“Remember, this is a heart that loves you. This is a heart that will never give you up. Please remember that.” Jacob hugged Changmin, rubbing his back in slow, circular motions. 

They stayed like that, for hours, until Changmin could think clearly and until Jacob’s shirt was soaked with tears. The members helped load an exhausted Changmin into the car, but before they could rev the engine, Jacob ran inside, “tell the manager to wait a second.” 

Jacon slipped the hair tie out of his pocket, tying a knot in it before returning it to the table in the makeup room. Even though it had broken, it became whole again, a knot sitting firmly on the hair tie, and it can still function as normal. That hair tie will become stronger than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> i am low iq but i hope it made sense that I was comparing changmin to the rubber band, broken but never given up.


End file.
